Telephone   #164
 2003

In the middle of it

the phone rings

and I raise my head

off the pillow

and glare at it

as if to mentally will

it to stop

but it rings

2, 3, 4 times

and I'm trying to

concentrate

and I close my eyes

and I try

even harder
 

I tense my muscles

and then

5, 6, 7

rings

It's not even nine A.M.

what is so important?

who is calling?

I curse them out loud

and try to get back

into it

but it keeps ringing

and the thoughts

in my head

and the

pinkness

of my skin

suddenly

 turn into

the face of my mother

standing in the kitchen

with the telephone cord

wrapped loosely

around her finger and

her  hand on her hip

waiting for me to pick up

But I don't

and so it continues to ring

and I continue to curse

until both of us

are finished.